


Wheel and Deal

by stephanericher



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1920s, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-20
Updated: 2015-07-20
Packaged: 2018-04-10 05:29:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4379105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stephanericher/pseuds/stephanericher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>for a prompt on tumblr. Haizaki swears Kise's just another annoying stockbroker.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wheel and Deal

**Author's Note:**

> for tumblr user lacett, hope you enjoy!

Shougo knows Kise Ryouta; of course he does. There’s no one on the stock exchange floor who doesn’t; there’s no one who hasn’t had a deal torn out from under their feet like a shitty rug by Kise Ryouta and his gorgeous smile, and there are few who don’t hold a high opinion of him regardless. He commands a sort of grudging respect, a respect that Shougo apparently doesn’t despite being here longer and subverting more deals (and no, Ryouta isn’t even close to catching up yet). And that’s what separates Shougo’s dislike from the garden-variety dislike that a normal trader feels when his deal is undercut; normal traders don’t have time to carry grudges over small things like that. But Ryouta hasn’t only stolen Shougo’s deals; he’s stolen Shougo’s thunder. So whenever there’s a break in the action, Shougo scans the room, finds him, looks at what he’s working on—he will undercut Kise Ryouta and buy the stocks he wants before him, even if they’re the most meaningless ones that Shougo can flip for barely a profit.

Except he still hasn’t; he always gets there too late to figure it out in time; Ryouta works too damn quickly. But still, Shougo’s going to win one of these days, and the longer he waits the sweeter the victory will be (it’s gone from a small piece of candy to a twelve-layer cake since Shougo had started trying, and he salivates just thinking about it). And that’s why he still looks at Ryouta when he can, and looking so often has made him notice certain things about Ryouta. They’re definitely not things he’s noticed on purpose, like the curl of his lip as he finishes a deal and the definitions of his sleek cheekbones like they’re made of porcelain or fucking titanium even, the smooth and unblemished surface of his skin, his long legs in those suit pants and the way his shirt looks as if he was sewn into it (it should be illegal to make shirts that tight; Shougo can see everything) and the way his fingers skim over the paper in his hands. And Shougo feels no closer to getting in but, well, it’s not a lost cause.

“Looking for me?”

And there’s Ryouta right behind him, arm draped over the railing, and Shougo sneers at him.

“You wish.”

Ryouta laughs; the sound is sharp like the shards of a broken wine glass. Shougo curls his lip; this isn’t attractive—no way.

“You want something, Ryouta?”

“Can’t I say hello to a friend, Shougo-kun?”

“We’re not friends.”

“Pity,” says Ryouta, tossing his head so his hair falls away from his face, and somehow even in the stifling and shouting he hasn’t shed a drop of sweat and his eyes look just as sharp and awake as ever despite it being Friday morning (and Ryouta was definitely at the speakeasy last night).

The conversation only serves to further Shougo’s resolve to beat that Kise Ryouta, to get a deal from him, to snatch it away like a mouse from a cat who’s been playing with it for too long. He deals as normal, looking for an opening and watching Ryouta from the corner of his eye all morning until the opportunity presents itself and he sees Ryouta talking to a short man with a cigar in his mouth whom he recognizes as dealing mostly in manufacturing shares. Before he can even settle the smile onto his face he’s over there.

“Excuse me?”

The short man looks startled; Shougo opens his mouth, about to make his move.

“Thanks for the deal,” Ryouta says. “You lose again, Shougo-kun. Better luck next time.”

Goddamn it.

Of course Ryouta’s there at the party that night, drink in hand and laughing with some girl and taking her by the hand and seeing that, the sparkle in his eye and the way he leans in, makes something in Shougo’s stomach clench and twist like wet fabric wrung out as he sips drinks with Ishida.

“Pining?”

Ishida grins at him, and Shougo kind of feels like decking him but this is a quiet party and damned if he’s explaining the cause to anyone.

“Fuck you, too. I am not pining.”

“Sure you aren’t. That’s not why you look at him all day, every day.”

“I do not look at him all the time. I’m trying to get his business, that’s all.”

“Sure.”

“Shut up, Ishida,” says Shougo, scowling to further prove his point.

Ishida shrugs. Now Shougo really wants to deck him, but he’d rather stay at the party and sip good booze than get kicked out and—okay, yeah, maybe he wants to look at Ryouta a tiny bit but it’s not because he’s pining. It’s because he’s been humiliated once again and he’s determined to figure Ryouta out. That’s it. Well, and the atmosphere—the flappers are dancing and the band is playing and it feels good to kick back after a stressful but successful day at the exchange.

“So, you really want me, huh?”

Ryouta’s voice is a whisper in his ear, sends shivers down his spine and heat through his cheeks and neck and Shougo turns to glare at him.

“The fuck did you say?”

Ryouta shrugs; it almost looks like a half-body shimmy and damn his shoulders are sharp and defined. “You heard me.”

He’s leaning forward, pout on those pretty little lips and mischief in his yellow cat-eyes.

“You’re only saying that because you want me,” says Shougo. “You’re just trying to get me to make the first move.”

“That doesn’t mean you don’t want me, too,” says Ryouta, and then his mouth is on Shougo’s.

He tastes like liquor and spice and Shougo wants more, more, more, sliding his tongue between Ryouta’s lips and running it against those straight teeth. Ryouta pulls back, half-smirking and even though that was a great damn kiss it somehow still feels like he’s grappling with Ryouta for the upper hand and not exactly winning.

“Thought so,” says Ryouta.

“Shut up and kiss me again,” says Shougo.


End file.
